Eggnog
by sweatercladpumpkin
Summary: Leo knew from experience. When the house was lacking in Michelangelo's usual chatter, it was usually a sign that he was up to no good.


**Hey Everyone! So fun fact, this story is actually nearly three years old now. I was just never happy enough with it to publish it.**

 **Also as a note, this is supposed to be set in the 2003 series (as I'm pretty sure when I first came up with this idea, the 2012 series didn't even exist yet). And also just a little warning but I think Leo may be a little (or a lot) OOC here. And its simply because this story was inspired by the adventures of me looking after my drunk then-housemate and I think a little of my personality seeped into Leo's characterization by mistake. Whoops. Anyway, enjoy!**

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It came from nineteen years of experience, but when the household was lacking in Mikey's usual chatter, it was usually a sign that he was up to no good. So when I emerged from mine and Donatello's shared bedroom after an afternoon of reading to find the Northampton farmhouse devoid of his ruckus, three days out from Christmas no-less, I decided to investigate.

And from that curiosity is how I found myself standing in the doorway of the kitchen; staring in confusion at my youngest brother. To say that the kitchen was a mess was an understatement. Pans and glasses were piled in the sink, egg shells littered along the kitchen counter and there were splatters of an unknown food substance on the stove and adjacent wall. What worried me the most about this picture was Mikey himself. Bent over the stove with his back facing me making something that I couldn't make out from this angle, with his trademark mischievous grin clearly evident on his face from where I was standing 10 feet away.

Oh shell, nothing good ever came from that look.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as I stepped further into the kitchen.

I had to bite back the laugh that bubbled at the back of my throat when Mike practically jumped out his shell and spun around to face me. His face was a mix between 'busted' and 'pleading innocence'. I could practically see the cogs in his mind working overtime to try and find an explanation for his current situation, if the constant wringing of his hands and nervous tapping of his feet were any indication.

"Oh, uhh…Hey, Leo! What am I doing? Uh n…nothing." Mikey stuttered out, his eyes darting around the kitchen, as if he were trying to find the answer to my question.

"Mikey, what is going on with yo…"

"Oh wait, what's that?" Mike interrupted me, tilting his head as if straining to hear something, "I think I hear Sensei calling you. You should probably see what he wants." he said as he grabbed my shoulders and tried to escort me out of the kitchen.

"Nice try, Mikey," I said as I spun back around and grabbed his hands, removing them from my shoulders, "but Master Splinter is upstairs doing private meditation and asked for no distractions. Also you didn't answer my question. What _are_ you doing in here? The place is a mess!"

"Ok, you caught me." Mikey's shoulders dropped in defeat. Though he instantly perked up again, a somewhat goofier version of his usual mischievous grin spread across his face.

"I'm making eggnog."

Eggnog? That's what all this was about? If that's all this was about then why was he acting so suspicious?

I stared back at him, exasperated with his current antics. However, something behind him seemed out of place and had caught my attention; the bottle of brandy sitting on the counter next to the stove.

"You're drinking!" I exclaimed. "Mikey, you're underage!"

Mike's hand shot up and clamped over my mouth. "Geez Leo could you be any louder?" He hissed; his shoulders tensed as he looked over my shoulder to see if anyone had been alerted by my shouting. After a couple of seconds, and no-one apparently alerted to our conversation, Mikey sagged in relief before he continued, "And c'mon, I'm nineteen. Technically I'm of legal age in Australia, The United Kingdom, Spain, Jordan, Algeria…"

" _How_ do you know that?" I interrupted, pushing his hand away from my mouth.

"Wikipedia, dude."

Note to self: supervise Mikey's internet usage in the future, lest he come up with more bright ideas like this one.

"And anyway, why are you so worked up about this? Cause it's me?" He huffed out; crossing his arms, his lips puckered up into a pout. "I mean, it's no secret that Raph has been drinking for years!"

He had a point. While the four of us were out playing when we were ten, Raph happened to stumble across a full bottle of beer someone had carelessly thrown out. Of course, we four being young and naïve at the time thought it would be a good idea to try some of it. That was until Master Splinter had caught us in the act. We weren't punished at the time because we had no idea what the stuff actually was, but we were subjected to a lengthy lecture from Sensei. Splinter had explained to us what the drink was and how it could be dangerous, especially with us being so young. He also spoke of his disapproval of the drink and told us that he wished for us to not drink any form of alcohol until we were of legal age.

However, always the one to rebel, Raph had begun drinking at the age of sixteen, not long after we were given our freedom to go topside. It wasn't regularly and it was usually under Casey's supervision (if you want to call it that), but what Mikey said was true. I never got on Raph's case about his drinking.

Well, anymore.

"Mikey, if it were Don I had caught in this situation I can assure you that I would be less than pleased at his actions" I replied somewhat smugly. Hah! I had him there. Don was arguably the most obedient out of the four of us.

I wasn't expecting the bark of laughter that erupted from my youngest brother at that moment. Nor did I expect the response that came after it.

"Dude, what do you think Donnie _does_ in that lab of his half the time?" He replied through his laughter "I caught him drunk in his lab last year after he drank half a bottle of scotch that he swiped from Raph's stash for 'experimental purposes'." Mike quotation marked with his fingers.

Okay then. Note to self: I'm having a serious discussion with Donatello later about the irresponsible consumption of alcohol and that even though he considers it to be 'in the name of science', it does not make it ok.

A look at what must have been the dumbfounded expression on my face and Mikey had once again descended into a new wave of laughter, now with one hand braced against my shoulder in order to keep himself upright.

It was then, with Mikey practically draped across my front that I got a really good look at him. His eyes looked as if they were slightly cloudy and out of focus, his cheeks had also gone a significant darker shade of green. And to top it off, the stench that was unmistakably alcohol was obvious on his breath.

"Michelangelo, how much eggnog have you had tonight?" I asked hesitantly, as my use of his full name snapped him out his laughing fit. I half-dreaded the answer.

Mikey, still leaning on me with his arm now wrapped around my shoulders, made a dramatic display of thinking by tapping his middle finger to his chin.

"Well by my deductions my dear brother," he began in what he must have thought was his best Sherlock Holmes impression "I believe that I have consumed the amount of about 4 glasses." He answered, holding up all three digits of his right hand to show me how many.

"Aww damn that's not four…" Mikey said as he realised his mistake and brought his hand up in front of my face.

"Why is it that we only have three fingers Leo?" The goofy grin from before once again plastered on his face. I seriously contemplated how big those glasses were.

Whatever way, Mikey was drunk.

"Imma make another drink, you want one?" Mikey asked; removing his arm from my shoulders and making his way back over to the stove. Before he got to his destination I reached out and grabbed his arm, returning it to its previous place around my shoulders.

"I think you've had enough for one night" I said as I steered him out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room that he was currently sharing with Raph. Hopefully we wouldn't bump into a curious family member inquiring to why I was half carrying Mikey; who drunkenly babbled beside me about Santa Claus being able to teleport like Nightcrawler in order to deliver presents around the world. He really did read _way_ too many comics.

Unfortunately, the odds were against us when Raph exited the bathroom just as I got Mike to the top of the stairs. One look at Mikey in his drunken state brought a smirk to Raph's lips. I had caught the whisper of "lightweight" under his breath as he brushed past us on his way downstairs. Apparently, Mikey had also heard his smug accusation.

"Well I'm _sorry_ that I'm not as fat as you Raph!" Mikey turned and yelled downstairs after our retreating brother. "And anyway I have more muscle so therefore am unable to absorb as much alcohol as you." Mikey continued somewhat smugly; while I continued to struggle getting my now riled up drunken youngest brother upstairs. Thanks, Raph.

Also, I actually think its muscle that absorbs alcohol faster than fat. I'm not quite sure. I'll ask Don later.

Also, to be fair, I'm pretty sure Raph is all muscle rather than all fat.

By the time I finally got Mike to his room and settled on his bed, he was already half asleep. He went from being his normal hyper self, to stumbling drunk to practically passed out in the space of ten minutes. I didn't know whether to be impressed or to call Don upstairs to check if he had alcohol poisoning. I decided to place him on his side and placed the wastebasket at the foot of Raph's bunk next to Mike's bed. He'll probably need it later.

I turned to leave the room with intention of cleaning the kitchen before anyone saw it and began to question. I would give Mikey a break this time around. After all, it is Christmas…Well that, and I'm pretty sure he'll be regretting his choice of drink when he woke up in the morning nursing a hangover. I was halfway to the door when Mikey called me back.

"Leo," Mikey slurred, reaching out his hand which I grabbed "you should drink w'th me next time." His eyes struggled to stay open, the goofy grin still firmly in place, albeit a sleepier one. I sat next to him on the bed and stroked my thumb along the centre of his forehead; a gesture that Master Splinter used when we were little that usually worked to get us to sleep after a bad nightmare or when we were just in need of comfort.

"Maybe next time, bro." I lied. There was no doubt that I would ever find drinking appealing. We had too many enemies that resulted in us constantly being on alert. Being affected by alcohol during an attack could be disastrous. It's why I initially had a problem with Raph drinking. The idea of letting any of my family members to be hurt as a result of my intoxication made my skin crawl.

"'K bro. You promise though?" he pleaded sleepily.

"Yeah Mike, I promise" I replied, still rubbing my finger along his brow in my attempts for him to sleep. I felt bad lying to him, but really, what are the odds he remembered this conversation later.

"Hey Leo," Mikey looked up at me with hooded eyes, "wanna know where I got the alcohol?"

"Where did you get it Mikey?" I asked to humour him. Though really, I dreaded the answer.

"Raph's stash." He confessed, giggling softly. "Reckon he'll be mad?" he asked as his eyes drifted shut as his body finally surrendered to sleep.

I couldn't fight back my quiet laugh that came from that confession. Mikey, however, wouldn't be laughing if Raph did find out.

"If he finds out about it, then yeah Mike, he'll be furious."

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 **Well that's it. I'm still kinda rusty when it comes to writing so reviews would be very much appreciated :)**

 **Also the whole thing with Don secretly drinking in his lab for 'scientific purposes' is actually a headcanon of mine, and that whole scene was one of the ideas that initially made me want to write this fic way back in the day.**


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